Tidal
by isawrightless
Summary: Then his hand is on the back of her neck, and she has to look up to meet his eyes.


"My girl," Chris says, and lifts her up and takes her there, right against the wall. He kisses her mouth and looks at her. "You're my girl."

Jill doesn't say anything. She can't say anything. She just feels him and nods, and moans a bit louder than she should. There are people in the next room, there are people who will be needing him in a few hours, and he'll be gone again, off to fill out the paperwork, off to remember the tragedy and she wants to save him from that, but all she knows how to do is tell him that she loves him and melt when he says it back.

She has become exhausted, she has grown out of pretending.

She has become something else entirely, and he's not the same, but they have always managed.

Arms around his neck, her legs circling his waist. She just feels. Each thrust, each beat of his heart. He's here, she thinks. He's here.

He's breathing.

He's breathing and she can feel it on her own neck, near her ear, she can feel it when he's too close. His stubble on her skin leaving red little marks that will sink in, and his fingers digging into her back, his pace is steady, not slow but not fast, and it's rough, it shakes her and forces her to close her eyes, to swallow all their secrets down. He's whispering things in her ear and it's not like he used to, the words aren't as many today, but he's telling her she's beautiful, he loves her, she's his girl, she's his everything and with a hand on her jaw he asks her to open her eyes, to look at him, and she understands so she does, his voice is sweet, used up, and he stares into her eyes and robs all of her self control.

He's close. She doesn't think she's going to join him this time, and it's alright, but he's not satisfied unless she is. He slides a hand between them, helps her, touches her and captures her lips and she moans inside his mouth and then she's done, she's a mess, and it doesn't take much for him, it doesn't take much at all.

When it's over he takes a moment to catch his breath, smiles at her before kissing her again. They let go of each other, and when her feet touch the ground he tucks himself in, zips his pants up and helps her rearrange her panties and skirt and then buttons up her blouse.

It's the cutest thing, and she chuckles and he smiles again.

Then his hand is on the back of her neck, and she has to look up to meet his eyes, but he leans in, their foreheads touch and her eyes start watering but she holds the tears back.

This has been done the night before when Chris cried silently as she held him and tried to soothe his pain. This has been done four years ago when she cried silently as he held her and soothed her pain.

Jill swallows the lump on her throat, steals a quick kiss.

"Try not to be late for lunch, ok?" she says, backing away and looking for her purse. She finds it on his desk.

"I'll do my best," he tells her, unlocking the door and opening it for her. "Don't let Claire drive you crazy if I don't show up."

Jill laughs, "you know she's a thirty-four-year-old woman, right?"

Chris shrugs, "still my baby sister."

He escorts her to the exit, passing by young soldiers who turn serious in Chris' presence, nodding at him and at Jill. They call him Sir, they call her Ma'am.

At the exit, he wants to kiss her, she can tell, but they just hold hands. It's funny, actually, how they walk through the crowd and pretend they didn't just have sex, pretend they didn't make promises and swore to forever in their hearts.

It's no one else's business anyway.

Chris doesn't want to let her go, his grip on her hand is tight and there's something lingering, something that refuses to disappear. It's different from love, better, it's powerful, and love is already too great, too strong, and it scares them both, but they hold on to it.

"Don't get too mushy in front of the boys, Captain," she warns him, smiling.

He smiles, too, a big smile and as if he can't help himself, gives her a kiss and brushes a piece of her hair out of her eyes.

She goes away with hope in her heart and heat in her belly and she cries now that no one is looking, she cries, but this time it's because he's showing that side of him again, it's because he's being playful, being himself for the first time since he came back, three months ago.

She cries for those who died, she cries for those who lived, she cries and cries and stands in front of graves and thanks and grieves and in the end it's not okay, it's not perfect, but it is what it is and Chris is himself again, with the new scars and the new sorrows, he's here, and the future is somewhere in between.


End file.
